


let our walls cave in

by beingxwest



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Amren and Mor are all-knowing, Angst, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cassian and Azriel have to deal with their own feelings, Cazriel, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mentions of the Inner Circle (ACoTaR), and then they have a (first date?) night with each other, i tried to make the ending funny, our bat bois go on bad dates, they finally deal with this, they're both completely oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 05:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19717441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beingxwest/pseuds/beingxwest
Summary: Azriel and Cassian go on bad dates. Somehow, they always find their way back to one another. Even if that means slow dancing well after midnight and realizing that they might have been looking for the right thing in the wrong places all along. prompt (anon on tumblr): “I like the way your hand fits in mine” but I ended up making it “love” instead of “like” // title from Sleeping at Last’s song “Heart”





	let our walls cave in

**Author's Note:**

  * For [usurpar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/usurpar/gifts).



> This prompt was sent to me by an anon on tumblr, and I'm posting it here. I've never done a dialogue prompt for a fic, and this is nothing like anything I've written before, but I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it! Please let me know what you think about it, and don't be shy -- you can find me on tumblr at @beingxwest if you'd like to send me a request there, or you can always send it to me here. Warning: lots of angst ahead, but there's a happy ending, I promise!

Love has always eluded Azriel.

It's not for lack of trying, either. He's been with plenty of people. None of them have ever lasted very long, though - sometimes they don't want anything more out of him than a one-night stand, sometimes they get too good a look at the scars that cover his body or the shadows that virtually always surround him and run for the hills, sometimes they realize too-late that they can't handle his need for privacy and space and the secrecy that comes with his job. A few times, it hasn't even been the job - it's been the way he insists on having his time with the Inner Circle, on not bringing said significant other around them. He's never introduced a romantic partner to his family, not even once, and it's mostly because he doesn't want to mess up their rhythm.

They have a way they operate, the five of them, and he doesn't want to lose the only place he feels comfortable, safe and happy. The only place it's easy for him to be himself.

Azriel has never been in a relationship longer than a few weeks. The longest one he can remember was about two months. The few significant others who have stayed with him that long usually start asking questions - they want to meet his family, they want to know where he's going and why he doesn't tell Rhys no on certain assignments (especially when they're given to him on nights that were supposed to be spent with the aforementioned significant other), they want to know why he has an aversion to touch. He has no problem telling them these things, except for maybe the last one, because it's always been hard to talk about his past. But when he does actually manage to get the words out and explain what he went through as a child or even as a young member of Rhysand's father's court, they suddenly begin treating him like he's fragile. They don't know how to touch him anymore (he chooses to believe it's that, and not that they just don't want to) or how to talk to him anymore. They distance themselves from him until there's a full foot and a half between them on the couch or the bed.

It makes him feel like a screwup. It's the loneliest thing in the world, isn't it, to be close to someone you've come to care about only for them to shut you out?

Over the years, Az has tried different things to keep new relationships from breaking down and ending this way. He's tried not dumping everything on them at once when they ask about his past. _Maybe it just scares them_ , he'd thought to himself when coming up with this idea. _It's an awful lot to process._ When that didn't work, he gave not telling them at all a shot. This goes awry too. It turned out that not talking about it at all was harder than building up the nerve to have the conversation, no matter how difficult it is for him to do. He's tried being up front with him about his job and what Rhys requires of him. This seemed to be the fastest way to _end_ a relationship, in all honesty, and looking back, Azriel can't seem to figure out why he ever thought it would be a good idea for keeping a relationship intact. He's tried making a big deal about it when he had to leave for work, just once, when he was dating a female he'd had feelings for in a way that was brand new to him - he bought her flowers, took her to a nice dinner, and spent the whole evening showing her how much he would miss her.

When he came back, though, Azriel remembers with a bad taste in his mouth, he'd found out the hard way that she hadn't missed him at all. He'd finished briefing the other members of the Inner Circle as quickly as he could, and then he'd run over to her apartment with the intent of surprising her. Flowers in hand, which had been bought from a street vendor he'd passed on the way, he'd knocked on the door. A few seconds later, he'd whirled around at a noise to find her strolling up the path to her door, hand in hand with a guy Az recognized from Rita's. _Don't assume things, Az_ , he'd chided himself. Even as he'd thought it, he'd known the words were little more than an attempt to stave off the sting of being betrayed. _They could just be friends._

Az shakes his head at the memory. They hadn't just been friends. He'd turned and left as soon as they leaned up against the walkway's railing and started making out.

In the recent years, Azriel's attempts at finding romantic love have slowed down considerably. He hasn't given up by any means, but he's stopped trying so hard. It's allowed him to spend more time with those he loves. It's given him more time for himself, too, which is always nice. But there are days when the others are busy and he finds himself alone in his apartment, and there are nights when his bed is cold and he is lonely and he wants someone to truly share his life with.

It's silly, but even with all the bad luck in love he's had, he still wants it. He still hopes he can find someone who will love him for who he is, messy past and difficult job and wings and shadows and all. That's the reason he's never bothered introducing anyone to his family - as soon as they all got used to having someone else around, Azriel's significant other would be gone because of something Az wouldn't or couldn't (or both) change about himself, and he'd have yet another heartbreak. The other members of the Inner Circle know he dates and goes out, that he has his fair share of lovers and one-night acquaintances, but none of them know about the troubles he's had when it comes to relationships. The idea of introducing someone to them and then everything falling apart - and not being able to hide it from them as he's spent so long doing - is nauseating at best.

Azriel ignores the scoffing of his shadows. They dance around him, probably half-hiding him from view behind the smoky curtain they've formed around him. _That isn't the_ only _reason_ , one of them hisses. _You know that as well as we do._

The shadows' use of the word "we" jars Azriel a bit - he's never been sure if it's one, singular shadow or if it's a group of strands of darkness put together by the hands of the Cauldron; he's spent some time trying to figure it out, but the shadows don't seem to know either. Still, the meaning of the words doesn't escape him, and Azriel still isn't sure what connection allows the shadows to know what is in his heart, his mind.

There are times when Azriel would swear that the shadows know things about Azriel before Azriel knows them himself.

They knew, for example, that Azriel's latest attempt at a real, genuine connection with someone was going to fail. He'd run into a male he'd never seen before at a bar on the other side of the city and, a few nights ago, ended up on his couch in his apartment talking about how the stars were arranged in the sky. His name was Bastien, he was gorgeous, and he seemed so himself that Azriel was quite taken with him. It was amazing, to have a relaxed and friendly conversation, so when Bastien had asked Azriel to dinner a few days later, Azriel hadn't even hesitated when he agreed. The two of them had gotten halfway through dinner before Azriel had seen Cassian, all dressed up and in a hurry, walking past the restaurant's floor to ceiling windows. The food had been pretty good, but their conversation - which had been largely fueled by alcohol a few nights before - was more awkward than anything else.

Azriel forces away a cringe at the memory. It's been a few hours, but it's still replaying in his mind. When he had seen Cassian through the restaurant window, his stomach had dropped. For every failed date or relationship that Azriel has had, Cassian has probably had two or three by now; while Azriel makes an effort to hide what he does away from the Inner Circle, Cassian does not, and while he's rarely brought his various companions around the Inner Circle, he doesn't make any kind of effort to hide his activities from them. So, of course, Azriel has known for a while that Cassian had a date tonight.

This was why it wasn't surprising to see Cassian all dressed up like that. Az had had no idea where Cassian was going when he went past the restaurant, but he hadn't expected to see him. Az has been doing his best to shove the idea of Cassian (and this date that Cassian's been so excited for) out of his mind since he overheard Cassian telling Rhys about it. In fact, Az went so far as to go to that bar downtown to get the whole thing out of his head. Where he'd run into Bastien and went home with Bastien and had a conversation about the stars with Bastien.

It was wrong of Az to go on a date with a perfectly nice stranger when this thing with Cassian is finally rearing its ugly head. He's never allowed himself to dwell on it, never allowed himself to think about it, and he's always shoved any thought that so much as sounded like jealousy from his mind. He doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't want to admit the truth to himself - a truth, which, after a bottle and a half of the cheapest wine Az could find on the way home from his botched date, is becoming difficult to keep out of his mind - anymore than he wants to deal with it to begin with. The date he'd gone on tonight had been a failed attempt at distracting himself from the painful truth.

Azriel isn't beating himself up too much about trying to use Bastien as a distraction. The date had been doomed from the beginning. His shadows had indeed warned him that it wouldn't go well. (Az had disregarded this particular concern because he'd assumed it had something to do with the fact that Azriel might maybe-kind-of-sort-of be in love with Cassian, and not because him and the stranger, when sober, weren't at all compatible. He regrets that choice, now, considering what happened.)

The first problem was that neither he nor his dinner date possessed the same conversational skills sober as they did half-drunk. They had trouble getting into a conversation, which didn't bother Azriel all that much. Getting to know people is difficult. He's certainly done this looking-for-love thing long enough to know. And, really, considering that most of what Az remembers from the night they met is fuzzy from the late hour and the bottle of whatever they'd been drinking, Az knows that he may have set himself up for failure. The good time that he'd had probably had little to do with his company and a lot to do with his buzz, and he didn't realize it until he flopped onto the couch when he got home a few hours ago.

The second problem, the one that really did bother Azriel, was the way Bastien kept looking at Azriel's wings.

In an attempt to keep them out of the way of passing patrons and restaurant staff, Azriel had wrapped his wings around the back of his chair. It was a rather small chair. Given that he is a rather large male with even larger wings, this made the position uncomfortable, but he was willing to give it a shot because that's where Bastien had wanted to go. Even with his wings tucked behind him like that, though, Bastien continued to look at him a little weird, and eventually he was outright staring at Azriel's wings. Az wasn't sure if it was because the wings made Bastien uncomfortable, or if it had something to do with how some Fae perceived the Illyrians in general. By the time Cassian walked past the window, Azriel didn't care what it was - the way that Bastien was looking at his wings was weird, and he did not like it one bit.

Seeing Cassian like that, all dressed up and on a mission, had rocked through Azriel. It was like someone had punched him; it was like all the air had been knocked out of him.

Bastien had noticed, turned to look over his shoulder to see what had gotten Azriel's attention, and saw Cassian's wings as he walked by. Shaking his head and glaring at Azriel, Bastien then got up and left before they'd even ordered dessert.

Azriel is still not sure what Bastien thought, or what Bastien's problem was, but he's definitely glad that he never told Bastien where he lives. Something about the way he'd been looking at Az's wings was just wrong. A shudder runs through Azriel and he curls his wings up tighter behind him in response.

So that's how he ended up here, lying on the couch in his own apartment at an awkward angle, his wings tucked behind him and his arms tight around his torso. A date gone wrong. Seeing Cassian all dressed up like that, looking excited and in a hurry, because what was on the other end of that on-a-mission-with-an-objective stride of his was probably a good evening with a nice person who Az won't ever meet until Cassian decides to marry them. (This may be an over-exaggeration; Cassian has told Az plenty of times that he doesn't know how he would feel about getting married, and that he wouldn't want to marry anyone who didn't fit well with the people he already loves.) If Az is honest with himself, too, it isn't like there's anything he could do about Cassian wanting to marry whoever he'd gotten all dressed up for - it isn't really even a problem to be solved. Cassian deserves to be happy. Az should be happy that he's happy, regardless of what it does to him.

Az desperately wants to be happy for Cassian. Az desperately wants to be happy in general.

Az doesn't know how to do this when the thought of Cassian being happy with someone else is like a knife to his middle.

* * *

Cassian's date is a complete nightmare.

By that, he means that he's a few minutes late, which Solarya handles politely if not kindly, to Cassian's amazement. Then their meals are mixed up with those of another couple, which isn't such a big deal, except for the fact that Solarya makes a big deal about it. At this point, it's up to Cassian to diffuse the ensuing argument between her and the restaurant's night manager. Both women are quite angry with each other and this is an exhausting twenty minutes.

About half an hour after Cassian finally gets their meals sorted out and both the restaurant's manager and his dinner date calmed down enough to resume the get back to their date, he realizes something rather disturbing. Solarya is actually more interested in Rhys than Cassian - she has such interesting questions like "What kinds of things does your friend the High Lord look for in a partner?" and "What kind of powers does his Lordship have?".

Cassian shakes the first few attempts off amicably. He tells himself that it's little more than an attempt to get a sense of what his life is like. He doesn't like to make a habit of automatically assuming the worst, so he tries to brush it off. This is their third date, after all, and he's asked her plenty of questions about her friends and family. There aren't a whole lot of greedy people like that - who will do anything to get close to someone like Rhysand, he means - in Velaris, so he doesn't want to make that assumption. She may just not want to be around the Inner Circle without confirmation of Rhys's character; it wouldn't be the first time that Cassian has promised a significant other that, no, his family wasn't dangerous unless threatened. It wouldn't make a whole lot of sense for Solarya to try and get this stuff out of Cassian anyway, considering the training he's had.

 _While that may be true_ , a voice says in the back of his head, _why else would she be asking about the romantic preferences of your_ brother _when she's on a date with_ you _?_ Cassian just rolls his eyes - the voice sounds suspiciously like Azriel, the wise and serious and slightly-distrustful-of-other-people male that he is.

It's exactly something Azriel would say, too. He would follow up with this: _She's trying to use you, oh great Commander of the Night Court's forces, and it looks like you're going to let her._ Azriel would also mention something about how telling it is that Cassian has to list the reasons Solarya isn't using him to get to Rhys. _If you have to work to convince yourself,_ he would say, _it's probably not true to begin with._

But Azriel isn't here to give him any of that sage advice. He's not here because he's on another date in another restaurant across the street. When Cassian looks out the window, he can see the restaurant that he'd spotted Azriel inside on his way to his own date. He hadn't turned or waved or anything. Cassian hadn't wanted to see what kind of person Azriel wanted to go out with, so he'd just pretended not to see him at all.

It shouldn't sting nearly as much as it does to see Azriel on a date with someone else. Though Azriel is an expert at dodging Rhys's drunken questions love and marriages and "Do you want children, you know, one day?", he cannot hide so much from Cassian. It's obvious that Azriel is in search of a partner. Someone with whom he can share his life. Someone to go home to.

 _That's what I'm after too, isn't it?_ Cassian thinks to himself. He's not entirely sure. What Azriel wants may be different from what he wants. Or not. There's really no way of knowing without asking him, and that is not a conversation that Cassian wants to have.

Azriel has hidden his love life from the other Inner Circle members for at least three centuries. Maybe longer. He's dodged all their questions, given them vague and barely descriptive excuses, and adamantly refused to introduce them to anyone that he finds himself falling for. Cassian doesn't even know if he's ever thought of anyone like that. It's clearly a mistake that Cassian saw Azriel tonight - this has never happened, not once, and they've gone on dates the same night as one another plenty of times before - and that gives Cassian pause. What could cause someone so meticulous as Azriel to make a mistake like that?

Whatever it is, Cassian can't put his finger on it. He's sure he likes that idea even less than he likes the idea of something bothering his brother. He hates not knowing almost as much as he hates being helpless to do anything about what he does know, but the fact that he can't pinpoint the source of his brother's issue is somehow worse than the other two. He knows there's a problem, but he also knows there's a chance he could help if he knew what it was. Knowing half, it turns out, is harder than knowing nothing or knowing everything.

It still feels weird to call Azriel that. His _brother_. There's not a better word, though; it's the one that Rhys came up with, and since Cassian's been fruitlessly searching for at least two hundred years for an alternative, he doesn't think he can complain without finding a better option.

"Are you listening to me?" a voice suddenly snaps.

Cassian jumps, dragging himself out of his reverie. When he looks at his date once again, she's tapping manicured fingers against the upper part of her champagne glass. Solarya's arms are folded on the table in front of her. Under the table, one of her heels is furiously tapping against the floor. The look on her face is nothing short of murderous.

"What?"

Solarya's snarl would make any Illyrian proud. "I said, 'are you _listening_ to me?'"

He rolls his eyes for a second time. This is most definitely his cue to leave. A date is one thing, but he's not about to deal with her dramatic bullshit for another second. Maybe he should've been paying attention to whatever she was saying, but she'd already picked a fight with the manager over a simple mistake and all but forced Cassian to get in the middle of it when the manager wouldn't give her what she wanted.

Cassian just shakes his head. He finishes his plate off in three bites, then looks at her, head cocked to the side. "No, you know what? I'm _not_ listening to you, because all you've done for the past two hours is ask weird questions about my brother, who, yes, just so happens to be the High Lord of this court, and bitch at or about the manager, who you started shit with for no reason. If you wanted to go on a date with my brother, you should've gone on a date with him. I'm not going to let you use me to get yourself close to my family."

Solarya blinks at him, opening and closing her mouth in a way that reminds Cassian of a fish. "But I - no, Cassian, that's not what I - that's not at all - "

"Oh, save it." After waving off her excuses, Cassian turns and pushes himself out of his side of their booth and to his feet. He does his best to not be yelling, but he's already wagging his index finger at her. This is definitely not a good look for the High Lord's General, but he can't bring himself to care. A lot of shit's already gone wrong this evening. He doesn't owe someone who's trying to use him for her own goals anything anyway.

Cassian is absolutely fuming. The restaurant has mostly emptied out, leaving only a few people to see Cassian's outburst. They're on the other side of the dining area; when Cassian glances over, they aren't even looking up. This is a good thing too, because Rhys would not be thrilled about it. Now that he thinks about it, the manager probably sat them on this side of the dining area, behind a nearly sternum-high wall decorated with flowers and potted plants, so that they could have some privacy.

 _And Solarya still tore into her about an easy mistake?_ Cassian inhales deeply and rolls his lips together, trying to force down his anger. _This is ridiculous._

Still sitting down, Solarya is a sight - she'd worn bright clothes complete with bright gold bands around her wrists, but all of this seems to have dulled. She doesn't look offended. Just... disappointed, somehow.

_Like she knows that she's been caught._

Given his general disdain for making dramatic monologues (because who needs to make one when your brother enjoys being plenty dramatic on his own?), Cassian aims to keep it brief. He makes sure that his voice stays low enough that it doesn't reach the patrons on the other side of the restaurant.

"You don't know this about me, because you didn't ask, but I've been through a lot of shit in my life, and _his lordship_ " - it might come out as a sneer, but Cassian can't keep himself form mocking the high-pitched way she'd said a few dozen times - "has stuck with me for as long as he's known me. That does not mean that I'm going to be the gatekeeper for anyone who wants to get near him; you're not stringing me along to get a leg up with him."

Solarya nods when Cassian stops talking. She pauses for a few seconds and then climbs to her feet. "What I did was wrong, yes, and I'm sorry for that." Her gaze drops to her shoes. "I hadn't realized that you'd really liked me. I thought you were just after a good time."

Cassian's eyebrows all but fly into his hairline, Rhys's attempts at training him in diplomacy and keeping his shit together be damned. He really wasn't expecting her to say that. He can't keep the hesitation out of his voice when he asks, "What do you mean?"

To Solarya's credit, she does have the grace to look sheepish when she brings her eyes up to meet his once again. Cassian might be angry, but for some reason, he still wants to hear what she has to say.

Just before Cassian makes up his mind to reach over and shake her, she says, "I just thought that you had eyes for someone else, is all, so I wasn't sure why you wanted to go out with me."

"We've been out a few times, Solarya. Why would you think that now?"

It does dawn on Cassian that the first time they went out was when they went home from a bar together, and then the second was when they went to see a play, which didn't involve much talking. The third time had seemed a bit off. Maybe this was her plan from the beginning?

Solarya gulps. Puts her hands out in front of her in what's likely meant to be a gesture for him to wait a moment. "I know, I know, but still..." She glances around their otherwise empty side of the dining area, like she wants to make sure that they're alone. "The way you talk about your friend, I assumed that you had feelings for him."

"My friend?" Cassian knows he sounds like a dumbass. He knows exactly what she's talking about, too, and suddenly he realizes that he - however different their individual mistakes might be - has to take some responsibility for this turn of events as well.

She manages to work a kind smile onto her face. "This is normally where I would ask you to give me a second chance, but I don't think you should." She wipes at her eyes then, gingerly, and Cassian notices that tears have welled up there. "I'm not - upset, that you have feelings for someone else, Cassian. I think you're a great guy."

Cassian puts a hand up, opens his mouth to debate that point. _It's not a very great thing to do, to lead someone on like this when you have feelings for someone else, is it?_

Before he can argue with her, though, Solarya continues, "You _are_ a great guy. To me, it just looks like you're a great guy who has feelings for someone else and doesn't know how to deal with it."

"And to me, it looks like you're a great girl who got led on by a dumb guy with feelings for someone else and tried to make the most of it," Cassian tries. The joke falls flat, and Solarya cringes. Cassian rolls his eyes and shakes his head at himself. "I am so sorry. That was not funny at all."

She handles this with a winning grace. "I probably deserved it." She narrows her eyes, tilts her head to the side. Her eyes suddenly lighten. It's like she's realized something. "But for the record, I was more trying to ask about the job opening I heard about, not about going on a _date_ with him."

Cassian laughs. _Oh, dear_ , Azriel would say. _That was absolutely unexpected._

"I hadn't heard about a job opening," Cassian says apologetically. He drags a hand over his face, not sure how they ended up here when things had been fine a few nights ago. "I'm sorry I assumed - "

It's Solarya's turn to shake her head. "Don't worry about it." She purses her lips, shifts her weight. "I'm not going to apologize about assuming that you have feelings for your friend."

"Why is that?"

Solarya's response is a smirk and the ever-dangerous question: "I'm right, aren't I?"

Cassian only nods.

She stands up on her tip-toes and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. When she steps back and her feet are flat on the ground again, she gives him another smile. "I know that he's your friend and you're probably worried about messing that up." She pauses, then continues after Cassian affirms this with a nod. "But you're a really great guy, and you shouldn't do this to yourself. You should tell him." She gives him an up-and-down once over. "You're already all dressed up, too. It'd be a shame to let that go to waste."

This time, Cassian has to chuckle. In another life, in another time, Solarya and he could've been great friends, if nothing else. But Cassian has someone he loves, who's probably still busy with his own date this evening, and Solarya just isn't the one for him. ( _And_ , the Azriel-voice says, _there is the helpful fact that your relationship was kind of messed up from the jump_.)

"You'll tell him?" Solarya asks after a few seconds.

Cassian sighs and then gives her a grin of his own. "You said it yourself - I'm already all dressed up, and it'd be a shame to let that go to waste."

* * *

Azriel is barely awake when he hears the knock on the door.

Part of him thinks that he's imagining it, that there's no one outside even though his heart would love for there to be, and he debates getting up to check for several minutes. Then there's another _tap-tap-tap_ on the door, as familiar a knock to Azriel as there can be, and a "Az? Are you in there?"

The voice is one Azriel would know anywhere. His limbs are moving before he tells them to, and then he's sitting up and then he's on his feet. He's exhausted - he blinks, and then somehow, he's all the way across the room, standing in front of the door. It's possible that he winnowed the few feet from the couch to the door, but he isn't sure, and either way, he's too tired to try and figure it out. It doesn't matter.

"Hey, Az? Are you home?" Cassian's voice is louder than before. Azriel suspects that, while it could be because he's closer to the door, it could also be because Cassian is worried about him.

 _Why would Cassian be worried?_ he wonders to himself. What does he have to be worried about?

Without waiting for his mind to supply an answer to his question, Az reaches forward and pulls the door open. It swings towards him more easily than he'd expected it to - apparently, he'd forgotten about not locking the door after he'd gotten home - and he stumbles back a bit to avoid hitting himself with the wooden door.

When Azriel looks up, it's Cassian standing there, wings half-open and still dressed to the nines.

"Sorry it took so long," Azriel explains before he can think about it. He silently curses himself for that - Cassian will realize how exhausted he is, how much he's had to drink, and he will only become more worried about him. "I think I fell asleep."

Cassian's eyes go up and down, making Az feel something akin to self-conscious. It's not that, not really. He hasn't been self-conscious around Cassian for centuries. It's probably that the wall that Azriel has kept up for so long is finally down - he's rarely let Cassian see him like this, and it's so late and he's so tired and hurt (and maybe more than a little drunk) that he's sure Cassian will see through him in an instant.

Done with his evaluation of Az's state, Cassian meets Az's eyes again. "You look like hell."

"I feel like it." Az chuckles. The joke doesn't come off as he meant for it to, and Cassian's eyes narrow in response.

To move the conversation he knows will follow from the hallway and into the safety of his apartment, Az suggests, "Why don't you come inside?"

* * *

For all the time that they've spent in one another's apartments, somehow, something seems off tonight. Cassian can't put his finger on it, but he doesn't think it has anything to do with what he's about to do.

He follows Azriel over to the sofa, Solarya's words echoing in his ear. _Be honest with him. Tell him the truth._ He wants to do those things, he does, but he doesn't want to lose Azriel's friendship.

He would rather suffer with his own heartbreak then lose Az altogether.

"Do you want something to drink?" Azriel offers after Cassian sits down on the far side of the couch. Azriel is still standing, swaying on his feet a little bit, and Cassian can't quite figure out what's pushed him to this point.

Cassian shakes his head. "No, I'm fine." He pauses, then decides to bite the first bullet of the night. It's well after two in the morning, and there's no going back now. "How did your date go?"

Azriel laughs bitterly. It's a hollow sound, so different from the usual quiet warmth of his laugh that it scares Cassian a bit. "It was a wreck."

"Mine, too." Cassian isn't sure if it's the right thing to say, but it seems better than a lame apology. "Do you want to talk about it?"

This is new territory for them. They have never once talked about their dates. Or their nightmarish love lives, for that matter. Cassian knows that one false step here could ruin things between them for good, but he can't let Azriel wallow like this. It feels like a punch to the gut just to see the other male so distraught. Cassian can't imagine what it must feel like for Azriel, who usually works so hard to hide this side of himself from their family. He's a very private person, and he doesn't like unnecessarily involving others in his own matters. Cassian knows he could be playing with fire - he's running the risk of making Azriel uncomfortable - but he refuses to let him get stuck in his own head like this.

They've done this for each other plenty of time, just about different subjects. _You're two grown males. You've fought wars together_ , he thinks to himself. _You can have this conversation like adults._

Suddenly throwing himself down on the other side of the couch, Azriel sighs, "My date kept looking at my wings kind of ..." Like just thinking about it is hard for him, Azriel tightly tucks his wings behind him. A shudder runs through him. "It was weird."

Cassian doesn't know what to say to that beyond agreeing with him, but he doesn't want to make Az feel like he can't keep going. He waits to see if Az will indeed continue talking, but when he doesn't, Cassian volunteers, "My date got into a fight with the manager of the restaurant we were in."

Azriel doesn't turn to look at him. "How did that go?"

"It certainly wasn't any fun." There's a bitter note in his voice, and Cassian tries to force his tone to become more pleasant before he keeps talking. "She also seemed more interested in Rhys than in me for a bit." It's not really a lie, even if he is leaving out some crucial details.

 _Yes, such crucial details as how she - correctly - assumed that you're in love with Azriel,_ a voice snaps in the back of his head.

A few minutes go by in an awkward silence. Cassian, by this point, is sure that they have never had this kind of conversation, where nothing seems right. Finally, Az does turn to meet Cassian's gaze, and he says, in a tone that does not at all fit the statement, "I'm sorry the rest of your evening went to waste."

It's a polite thing to say, if Cassian ignores the way Az is implying that spending time with him is a waste. Cassian stifles a snort - _as if_ spending time with Azriel could ever be anything akin to a waste. Still, there's something else in Azriel's tone that Cassian can't quite decipher, and that makes him uncomfortable. There's an empty bottle laying on its side on the coffee table in front of the couch, and he can smell it on Azriel's breath - his date went so badly that he came home and tried to drown his sorrows.

There's a pang in Cassian's chest. Azriel deserves the world, every star in the sky. Not this. Not being treated like that on a date, not being made to feel like he's less or undeserving.

"What else were the two of you going to do?"

Cassian blinks at Azriel in surprise. "What?" When the question really sinks in, he shakes his head and waves dismissively. "Oh, no, you don't want to hear that."

A beat passes, and then Azriel smirks, turning so that his back is against the arm on his side of the couch. He pulls his legs up so that they're folded in front of him. His toes inch past the midway of the couch. The invisible barrier between them broken, Azriel tilts up one side of his mouth. The look in his eyes is - it's _wistful_ , Cassian thinks, because he knows that look.

No. _No, that can't be true._ Cassian shouldn't let his exhausted mind play tricks on him like that. He shakes his head like he can physically dislodge the thought itself.

"Humor me," Azriel orders. That relaxed almost-smile is still on his face. His voice still leaves no room for argument.

Not for the first time, Cassian wonders how Azriel is so much, how he can be both half-smiling and unyielding at once. How he can so clearly be heartbroken but still want to get Cassian to... Well, Cassian doesn't know the purpose of this question, but he imagines that Azriel is trying to be supportive. Azriel's the kind of person to say, "Talking might help," and let the other person spill their guts to him if he thinks it'll make them feel better, so that could very well be it.

Cassian studies Azriel for a second before leaning forward. He rests his elbows on his knees and folds his hands so that he can rest his chin on them. His eyes still on Azriel, he says, "I was going to take her dancing."

"Dancing is nice." There's that tone in Azriel's voice again, the one that Cassian can't quite make out. He closes his eyes, cutting off Cassian from reading him altogether - even nowhere near sober, Azriel still has complete control over his body language.

"I thought that she would enjoy it," Cassian allows. He has no idea what to make of this side of Az - something is so clearly off with him, but Cassian can't put the pieces together. He feels like the answer is right in front of him and he's still not able to figure it out. After a few seconds, something else dawns on Cassian, though. "You don't even like dancing."

Azriel gives him a lazy shrug in response. When the silence stretches on long enough that it's clear Cassian isn't going to say anything, Azriel explains, "The only times I've ever danced are with Mor, at all-night parties at Rita's, or to get information out of a mark." He opens one eye to look Cassian up and down. "How would I know if it's enjoyable or not?"

There's a tired note in Azriel's voice. Cassian is positive it isn't meant to be there. He ignores it.

Before he can change his mind, though, he inhales deeply, and tells himself that it might be worth it to see Azriel smile, even if this ruins everything. He climbs to his feet, glad that he's still completely sober, and holds out a hand to Azriel.

"Dance with me, then?"

* * *

This is an unexpected turn of events.

 _No, it's not_ , Azriel's shadows argue. He could almost say that they're laughing as they curl up around his nape and his ears. It's like they're urging him to - oh, right.

It's probably not a good idea to be up and waltzing around the living room at this hour (and after how much he's had to drink), but Az doesn't know how he could possibly say no. Cassian's offering, so he won't think anything of it if Azriel accepts, right?

Azriel certainly hopes that's the case. He's never liked dancing, not really, but dancing with Cassian... Maybe it would be different. Feel different. He's so used to being dragged across the dance floor by a half-drunk Mor, who's more like a sister to him than anything else, and the only other experience he's had dancing is to get close to someone long enough to get what he needs. He's never really danced with dates or even by himself. He’s never done it for fun.

Too many seconds have gone by since Cassian extended his hand; Azriel's used them to rationalize his agreeing to dance, but it looks like Cassian's used them to change his mind. By the time that Az works up the nerve to rest the tips of his fingers on Cassian's, Cassian is already pulling back, saying, "No, um, you know, never mind - "

But then Cassian cuts himself off. His eyes are locked on their hands, touching but not joined.

"I would love to dance with you," Azriel says. He doesn't quite recognize his own voice. It doesn't really matter. He's got bigger problems - his shadows are practically cheering and chanting in his ears, but the voice of reason inside his mind is practically shrieking: _You're going to dance with Cassian? How is that a good idea? He's going to figure out that you're -_

Azriel blocks out the voice. Screw it. If he wrecks his life by dancing with the male he's in love with, it's in-the-morning-Azriel's problem.

He meets Cassian's eyes and it's like lightning is running between the tips of their fingers. There's a pause, and maybe it's seconds or minutes or hours, but Azriel doesn't care, because it's something he's never felt before. The tension between them is tangible, all of the sudden, but not in a bad way.

A red flush spreads across Cassian's cheeks, finally, and he looks down at his shoes for a second. Azriel assumes that it'll break the spell, but it doesn't, and when Cassian looks back up at him, Azriel is pushing himself off the couch with his free hand. He doesn't break eye contact as he stands up.

The world tilts a little to the side, then, and it seems that not breaking eye contact was a bad idea, no matter how smooth it might've looked, because Azriel got up before his feet were really flat on the floor. Falling to the side in slow motion, he expects to crash through his coffee table and probably break the damn thing in half. The table will give under his weight and the bottle that's still resting on the table will shatter in the process and Cassian will have a nice laugh at his expense. It might be worth it, if it will make Cassian laugh, but -

But he's waiting on an impact that never comes.

When Azriel forces his eyes open, wondering why he isn't on the floor in a heap of broken table and broken glass, he finds that it's because Cassian has caught him.

Cassian's arms are wound tightly around him. It's certainly not the closest they've ever stood (though this is debatable, because does it count if one of them was frighteningly near bleeding out?), but they've never quite been in each other's personal space like this before. Even though he's still wearing his suit jacket, Cassian radiates warmth, and it's such a nice contrast to how cold Azriel is that he must consciously keep himself from pressing closer.

Cassian eases Azriel upright, so that he won't fall over if Cassian lets go, but Cassian's arms don't move an inch.

"Thank you," Azriel whispers. "For catching me."

Somehow, Azriel hopes that Cassian knows he means more than just now - Cassian has held Azriel up for most of their lives. He and Rhys taught Az to fly, and Cassian always made sure he wouldn't fall. Even on perfectly level ground, Cassian has always been there for him, always made him laugh and helped him stay upright when it should've been completely impossible to stay standing at all.

Cassian nods. "Of course." His voice is thick and sounds caught in his throat. "I, um - it's the least I can do."

There's something in Cassian's eyes that Azriel can't make sense of - fear, maybe, or something else? _But what does he have to be afraid of?_

Azriel doesn't know what possesses him to do it, but he gives Cassian the most winning smile he can manage and hopes it'll make Cassian laugh instead of look so terrified. "Have you ever actually learned to dance?"

Cassian has the grace to look sheepish as he shakes his head. "Uh, no, I -" He chuckles nervously, breaks off, tries again: "I haven't."

"Well, that's okay." Azriel takes a deep breath. "I can teach you."

To his credit, Cassian wipes the shocked look off his face as quickly as it fixes itself there. "When did _you_ learn to dance?"

When Azriel replies, there's enough mock-offense in his voice to make Cassian laugh. "I am the _Spymaster_ of the _Night Court._ What do you _mean_ ” - Azriel rolls his eyes and does his absolute worst impression of Cassian, deepening his voice and everything - “when did I learn to dance?'"

Cassian opens his mouth to deliver what is likely mean to be a scathing retort. Instead, though, he meets Azriel's eyes again, and his jaw goes slack. The tension around them ramps up again, and once again, Azriel is hyper-aware of the placement of their hands - Cassian's hands are hot, even through Azriel's shirt, on their respective sides of Azriel's waist. Both are placed just above Azriel's hips. Azriel's hands, at some point in Cassian's attempt to keep him from falling over, seem to have landed on Cassian's arms. His hands are resting, probably ice cold, one on both of Cassian's elbows.

"I would love for you to teach me." Cassian's voice is barely a whisper; it somehow sounds like he's holding his breath. Azriel can't imagine why. He looks down at the floor for the briefest of seconds, then back up at Azriel. The spell still doesn't break. "If you wouldn't mind taking it easy on me, I mean."

"Since when have I ever taken it easy on you?"

This gets a roaring laugh out of Cassian. His reply is still perfectly honest. "You haven't."

Azriel just shakes his head in response; he can feel the _you're-in-love_ tilting upward of the corners of his mouth, and he can't do anything to stop it. He lifts his right hand and flexes his fingers. There's a zing of magic in the air, a tingling across exposed skin, and then the window across the room opens just enough to let in the music from the street below. There must be a band performing outside tonight. Azriel listens for a second, nods. It'll be perfectly fine to dance to.

There's another pause, and then Azriel slides his hands from Cassian's elbows to Cassian's hands on his own waist. "So, um, the first thing is how you stand."

Azriel takes Cassian's right hand in his left, lifts their joined hands out to the side and a little below shoulder level. Even Azriel's holding his breath as he reminds Cassian to stand up straight.

Cassian corrects his posture, stands up straighter. He might even puff out his chest a little. "Am I doing this right?"

Trailing his eyes across the line of Cassian's shoulders, the angling of his muscled arms, Azriel feels his mouth go dry. When he's silent for too long, Cassian raises his eyebrows. Azriel realizes his mistake and drags his gaze from Cassian's broad shoulders to his eyes. With a cough and a nod, Azriel affirms, "Yes, it - um - looks like you're getting the hang of it."

Before he can think too much about it, Azriel repositions Cassian's left hand, which is still on Azriel's waist, just a little bit. He moves his own right hand up to rest on Cassian's right shoulder.

They stand like that for at least a minute or two, maybe even longer. Azriel can't seem to pull his eyes away from Cassian's, and, if the way that Cassian is looking at him is any indication, it seems that Cassian is having the same problem.

"Is there more to this dancing thing or no?"

Azriel chuckles. He feels breathless, like he's been thrown into a wall and the air's been knocked out of him. "We actually have to, you know, _dance_."

It's a slow start, but Az sways to one side, then the other, and Cassian follows. They fall into an easy rhythm. Cassian laughs softly as Azriel tells him the right way to move his feet, then shows him, then smoothly redirects them when Cassian makes a mistake. Eventually, they get past doing the steps in place, and Azriel steps back, bringing Cassian's arm up and between them to spin him around.

They're about the same height, which makes the spinning around part easier. What makes it difficult is Cassian's unsure footing - he nearly stumbles halfway through the turn. Azriel thanks the Cauldron for his Illyrian reflexes as he throws a hand out to help Cassian regain his balance. Cassian doesn't spectacularly fall on his face. He does give Azriel a shy "Thank you," and Azriel does his damnedest to ignore the flush spreading across his cheeks.

Azriel is also working hard to ignore the warming of his own face and neck, but that is entirely beside the point.

A few more minutes of trying to get the turn right, and Azriel is sure that Cassian's got the hang of it. Cassian manages to spin Azriel around a couple of times.

"I knew you could do it."

Cassian cracks a smile at the compliment. "I think I just have a great teacher."

From the street below, the music fades out. There's a round of applause, and then a raised voice announces the next set of songs.

Even without the music, they keep going - dancing around the living room in a circle is a lot easier than Azriel had thought it would be, especially with the furniture in the way. They get around the rug without falling on their faces, which is a good sign, and then stop in front of the window just as the music kicks back up again.

Both of them are still moving their feet in place, swaying to the beat of the new song. Either they're looking right at each other, gazes locked, or they're looking everywhere else but in each other's eyes.

Out of the corner of his eye, Azriel can see the street through the semi-open window. There is a band playing on an elevated stage, and there is a throng of people gathered in front and around the stage to listen. In the very front is a couple who looks very, very in love, and there's a pang in Azriel's chest.

Him and Cassian might be dancing around his living room well after midnight, but they're never going to have that.

 _Cauldron, Azriel, stop being so morose_ , his shadows hiss. _Tell him how you feel about him; just get it over with._

Azriel curses to himself. Under his hands, Cassian's muscles tense up just enough that Azriel notices. When Azriel manages to blink away his reverie, he looks back up to meet Cassian's eyes and finds the other male looking rather frustrated.

 _It's now or never_ , the shadows whisper. _Get it out, Azriel. Tell him the truth._

Azriel opens his mouth to listen, if for no other reason than to shut up his shadows. He squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds, then inhales and exhales as deeply as he can. He's going to do it. It'll change everything. It might very well ruin his life, but he's going to -

"Azriel," Cassian says slowly, enunciating each syllable like he's still trying to convince himself not to turn and run away. "I need to tell you something."

* * *

Cassian knows that it's foolish.

It shouldn't matter that he told Solarya he would, or that he needs to, or that it's going to eat him from the inside out if he doesn't. It's going to wreck his friendship if he does; he'll lose Azriel altogether. Cassian will take coping with his own heartbreak for the rest of his life if it means not losing Azriel.

Their swaying comes to a stop. Without the constant movement, they're not dancing - they're only standing way too close together, practically chest-to-chest, and it's not that it's awkward, it's just - it's _new_. Different.

Cassian is enjoying this much more than he has any right to be.

"As it should happen, I have something to tell you, too." Azriel's tone sounds, for lack of a better word, strangled. He pauses for a few seconds, and then asks, "Would you like to go first, or do you want me to?"

"I'll go first."

It takes every ounce of Cassian's self-control to extricate himself from Azriel's personal space, pull his hands back, and lead the way over to the couch where they'd been before. Just running out the front door and finding the nearest window big enough to launch out of and fly back home seems like his best chance, but it wouldn't be the right thing to do.

There is a part of Cassian that is glad for this - he is finally going to lay it all out on the table, and then he'll accept the rejection that will surely follow, and then maybe he'll be able to move on.

(This is a lie - Cassian doesn't think he'll ever actually get over Azriel, but he will try, and maybe he will manage to put on a convincing show. At least then his mind won't have any choice but to stop with ridiculous fantasies about his feelings for Azriel being reciprocated.)

When they sit down, Azriel reaches out for Cassian's hand. He moves like he's moving through water, slowly but surely, and his fingers are shaking when they finally touch Cassian's, but Cassian can't take his eyes off where they're touching. Azriel waits a bit to see if Cassian will pull away, and when he doesn't, Azriel threads his fingers through Cassian's.

The touch steadies Cassian like nothing else does, and Cassian forces himself to pause and take a deep breath.

Finally, Cassian looks up from their joined hands to find Azriel looking at him.

"What did you want to tell me?" Azriel asks. There's something in his eyes, but Cassian can't describe it. Azriel's eyes are bright and warm, but Cassian doesn't think it's from whatever he's been drinking.

 _It's now or never_ , Cassian tells himself. _Just get it over with._

"That I - " Cassian gulps. He's never been this nervous before, and he supposes that should serve to tell him how important Azriel really is to him. He's done this plenty of times with his many lovers, and he's never felt like this. Like something was squeezing the air right out of him. Nonetheless, Cassian steels himself for the fallout and forces the words out of his mouth. "That I love you."

Azriel blinks at him. Cassian's eyes dart away in response, crafting a brush-off response even as his heart pounds in his chest. _I'll just tell him I didn't mean it like that if he takes it the wrong way. It'll be fine. He has no reason not to believe me, right?_

There's a silence that seems to stretch for lifetimes. When Cassian looks back at Azriel, he discovers that Azriel is still, in fact, gaping at him, but there's a smile in his eyes that wasn't quite there before.

"Az?"

It was barely a whisper, but Azriel still heard it, and his eyes narrow at Cassian just long enough that Cassian picks up on it. "You - you're - you - " Cassian's never seen Azriel at such a loss for words, never seen him struggle like this except for when caught in the throes of a nightmare that he couldn't shake. Still, Azriel keeps trying, unfaltering in the face of not having any idea what to do.

Cassian knew it. He's going to get rejected. Either way, it's too late now - he has to let Azriel stumble through the "I love you, just not that way" that's surely coming. As they say, Cassian's made his bed. Now he's got to lay in it.

"You're - " Az pauses to clench his teeth together. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment; when he opens them back up, he seems much calmer somehow. "You're in love with me?"

Only managing a nod, Cassian moves to pull his hand away from Azriel's. He swallows hard and then whispers, "Yes. I am. "

* * *

Azriel has dealt with a lot of absolute bullshit in his very long life, but this has got to be a new level. Especially for him and Cassian.

It suddenly all makes sense now - the way that Cassian's been looking at him, him being here instead of drinking his sorrows away at Rita's, every other memory that plays through Azriel's mind in the span of a few minutes.

He stretches a bit, tangling his fingers with Cassian's once again. He doesn't know how to say the words just yet without sounding like a total fool, not after sputtering about like that, so he decides on something else.

His newfound plan requires scooting across the couch, which he does, only with a bit more difficulty than he would have if he were, say, wide awake or sober or both. Cassian's eyes widen, and Azriel can practically feel the way he tenses up at the closeness. There's a pang in Azriel's chest - Cassian's absolutely terrified of being rejected, isn't he, and Azriel just sat there while his best friend thought himself into a panic.

"Cassian," Azriel breathes. It would be a lie for him to say that the closeness has no effect on him either, but that isn't the point right now. Next to him, Cassian doesn't move an inch. His eyes are still locked on the edge of Azriel's coffee table, the very one that Azriel nearly fell through in trying to accept Cassian's offer to dance, and suddenly, none of this feels quite real.

A minute later, Cassian still hasn't moved an inch.

"Cass." Voice a little softer than he means for it to be, Azriel slowly lifts his hand to cup Cassian's cheek. "Look at me."

This works - Cassian turns his head so that he's looking at Azriel. Azriel doesn't move an inch, because he's fairly sure it would only serve to startle Cassian. Every one of the muscles in Cassian's body seems to be tensed up. A stab in Azriel's chest (which feels more like a punch in the stomach) makes it difficult to breathe for a few seconds, because Azriel knows that Cassian - brave, strong, fierce, independent Cassian - is afraid of whatever might come out of Azriel's mouth.

 _Well, then_ , the shadows whisper, _you better make the risk he took worth his while._

The best part is this: Azriel has just the thing to do that.

Azriel keeps his gaze locked on Cassian's as he goes down the list of things he loves about Cassian. This list bounces around in the back of his head several times a day, and so it feels a lot smoother coming out than he’d expected it would. He doesn’t trip over his words even once.

"You are the bravest male I've ever met. You have a laugh that can light up a room. You've got a heart of gold and you give so much of yourself to other people without expecting anything in return. You make me want to be better. You remind me that I'm more than the work that I do. You have always treated me as an equal. You - "

"What are you doing?" Cassian suddenly interrupts, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. "Why are you - ?"

"I was going to tell you the same thing, Cass."

"You were going to tell me what?" Cassian really must not get it. The shock on his face is evident - he's not playing dumb. "What are you talking about?"

Azriel barely stifles a laugh. It would completely ruin the moment, but _of course_ this is the part that goes over Cassian's head, and Azriel’s heart squeezes in his chest. "That I love you."

Cassian flinches at that. Azriel goes with him, and they end up half-laying on the couch and half-falling off of it. Azriel, somehow, also ends up looking down at Cassian. They're pressed against each other all over again, but this doesn't faze Cassian, who still appears to be hung up on something else.

"You can't be in love with me."

Brushing his thumb over Cassian's cheek, Azriel doesn't do anything to remove himself from his newfound position. There's the slightest bit of humor in his voice as he replies, "You can't tell me who I get to be in love with."

Cassian shakes his head. He's blinking furiously, his mouth opening and closing like he wants to say something but doesn't know what.

Azriel knows what to do - keep going. It's the only thing that will get through to Cassian, isn't it? He's sure of this, that after so long of friendship and maybe even something else, that he knows how to get through to the male who's still lying beneath him.

"But," Cassian gasps out before Azriel can resume his list, "I'm - I'm not good enough for you."

And Azriel feels those words, how much Cassian truly believes them to be true, like a blow to his middle. Cassian sounds so heartbroken, so in disbelief... It's the cruelest irony of their fates, that they're in love with one another and that they see themselves as so unworthy of each other that -

Well, if things were different, if their respective dates had gone better and Cassian had never come to Azriel so late, and if they hadn't danced with one another - then they might never have told each other. They might very well have lived the rest of their lives and never known that what they've been searching for in other people was right beside them.

The shadows collectively gripe about how dramatic Azriel becomes when he's half-drunk.

A dark gray tendril snakes down from where it's been floating around Azriel's head. It moves towards Cassian, just brushing over his cheek, and Cassian doesn't even flinch. This isn't new - Cassian hasn't ever been thrown off by any part of Azriel, not even once, and there's no reason for him to start now - but it strikes a chord in Azriel all the same.

"I am in love with you, Cassian," Azriel repeats, voice soft, eyes locked on Cassian's. The shadows swirling around him fan out, thicken, split into more tentacles of varying shades, and make their way to surround both him and Cassian. "Because you are not afraid of who I am, you do not see these shadows as a thing that you have to put up with, you do not look at me and see a monster."

Cassian shakes his head, opens his mouth to argue again, and Azriel fights the urge to roll his eyes at Cassian's predictability.

Azriel squeezes Cassian's hand with his own, tightening his fingers. " **I love the way your hand fits in mine**. I love the way that we know each other. I love that we are equals." Azriel pauses, a grin overtaking him. "I love that we were both going to do this, spill our guts to each other, tonight."

This catches Cassian off-guard. The look on his face goes from shock and disbelief to humor, and a wide smile cracks across his face. "You were - ?"

"I was." Azriel nods, brushing his thumb over Cassian's cheek again. "I made up my mind, I think, sometime before you got here." Cassian cocks his head to the side, so Azriel chuckles and explains, "And then I passed out on the couch."

"And then I got here."

"And then you got here." Azriel pauses for a second, laughing under his breath. "All of my stories seem to start with, 'And then Cassian got there.'"

Cassian laughs, deep and warm and rich, and Azriel can feel it rumbling in his chest. "I don't think that's a bad way to start a story."

Mock-rolling his eyes, Azriel retorts, "Of course _you_ don't."

With his foot, Cassian leans over and shoves the coffee table out of the way. He reaches up to run a hand through Azriel's hair, which Azriel leans into, grateful that it's out in the open and they can finally be themselves with each other –

And then Cassian rolls them both off the edge of the couch and onto the floor, twisting so that Azriel still lands on top of him. Cassian’s laughing as his hand cards through Azriel’s hair. His eyes are brighter than they’ve been in a while. The sight alone gives Azriel a warm and fuzzy feeling in his stomach.

Azriel props himself up on his elbows. Crushing Cassian under his weight would probably kill the mood. When he leans his head down, his nose bumps into Cassian’s, and both of them laugh softly. Neither male pulls back. A few more seconds see Cassian and Azriel staring unabashedly into one another’s eyes.

“Are you going to do it?” Cassian eventually whispers.

“Do what?”

For the record, Azriel is actually so dazed looking into Cassian’s eyes that he doesn’t know what Cassian is talking about for several seconds. When it does dawn on him, his gaze trails down to Cassian’s mouth and he jerks his eyes back up to Cassian’s to avoid further incriminating himself. The picture of innocence, Azriel smiles brightly and breathes, “Oh, yeah, _that_.”

Cassian rolls his eyes dramatically and sighs. The smile is still on his face. His fingers go back through Azriel’s hair, and Azriel gives him a quick grin of his own and leans in further. When their lips finally meet, Cassian’s eyes flutter closed.

It’s a chaste kiss. Tame by even Azriel’s (comparatively inexperienced) standards. But it’s still enough to make his toes curl, to make his wings expand back out to their full size when Cassian’s fingers find their way to Azriel’s hip. His touch is light, even more so because of Azriel’s thick shirt – something in Azriel nearly melts at that, because Cassian was so afraid of getting his own heart broken, and here he is, taking care not to startle Azriel.

In response, Azriel grazes his teeth over Cassian’s bottom lip. Cassian hums into Azriel’s mouth, and at the same time that Azriel’s fingers twist into Cassian’s shirt, Cassian’s arms snake around Azriel’s waist.

Half in a daze, Azriel pulls back enough to look at Cassian. He doesn’t miss the way that Cassian follows him up, lips chasing after Azriel’s. Cassian’s eyes flutter open a second later and he lays his head back against the rug beneath them.

Cassian’s hands are hot where they’re resting on Azriel. Even through Azriel’s shirt.

They’ve touched plenty of times in the several hundred years they’ve spent practically joined at the hip. Not like this, of course, until now, but it’s still kind of the same – Cassian’s hands are warm and careful, and unlike the dozens of lovers Azriel has had, Cassian doesn’t stare at the shadows swirling around him or the wings at his back. Cassian’s touch doesn’t make Azriel want to throw himself to his feet and bolt for the door. As if to prove the point, his wings go slack, relaxing against the couch and coffee table on either side of Azriel and Cassian’s position on the floor.

Being touched by Cassian like this, being held by Cassian, is such a different feeling. It’s like nothing Azriel has ever experienced. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, but he’s completely calm; he and Cassian are pressed so close together that he can feel the pounding of Cassian’s heart against his own chest. Azriel untangles one of his hands from the fabric of Cassian’s shirt, now mostly untucked, and moves it to rest on Cassian’s chest, right over his heart.

Under Azriel’s palm, Cassian’s heart is pounding.

Azriel pushes himself up a bit. He feels like he needs air even though they haven’t really done anything. When he inhales, the source of his breathlessness is immediately clear – he’s instantly made dizzy again by Cassian’s scent and whatever cologne he put on for his date tonight. Azriel fights the urge to bury his face in Cassian’s shoulder. They aren’t quite done yet.

Cassian gives Azriel a small smile. It’s still dazzling, even if it’s not the huge grin from before they kissed, and Azriel leans down to brush his lips over Cassian’s another time.

When Azriel pulls back this time, Cassian’s eyes are bright as the sun.

“Did you just invite me in to kiss me?” The laugh that follows rumbles in Cassian’s chest, tingles against Azriel’s fingertips. Cassian’s eyes trail over Azriel’s shoulder, widen nearly imperceptibly, and then swing back to Azriel’s. “Do you know what time it is?”

For a few seconds, Azriel is still so lost in being surrounded by Cassian – his eyes, his warmth, his scent, his arms tight around Azriel’s waist – that the words don’t sink in. “What?” he mumbles back. He’s already distracted by other pressing matters. Like, for example, brushing the tip of his nose over Cassian’s cheek, down his jawline.

Cassian just laughs again. The sound is soft and light and happy in Azriel’s ear. A few minutes ago, when they’d both been struggling so much to get the words out right, to communicate their feelings for one another, feels like a distant bad dream already.

It isn’t much longer before all talk of the late hour goes away.

Azriel manages to coax Cassian into another round of kissing. They close their eyes and learn the planes of each other’s faces with their fingertips, twisting around again to keep their weight off of each other. It’s slow and easy and they laugh when their noses accidentally collide. Eventually, they find their way back onto the couch. They’ve finally gotten themselves situated, leaning back into the pull between the two of them, and Azriel yawns right as he goes to press his lips to Cassian’s.

This gets a soft chuckle out of Cassian. He reaches up and runs his fingers through Azriel’s hair again, and smiles when Azriel – who’s exhaustion seems to have caught up with him – leans into the touch.

“It’s nearly six in the morning.” Cassian sounds exhausted, too. But happy. And lighter than he’s sounded in such a long time. He’s looking at Azriel and he’s practically glowing.

This is a good look on Cassian. Part of Azriel is giddy and filled with joy at being able to bring this side out of Cassian – he hasn’t looked so relaxed even once in all the years that Azriel has known him.

The other part of Azriel, the bigger part, is in awe of the beauty that is such a relaxed and glowing Cassian.

This time, Azriel knows what Cassian is talking about. His body is suddenly heavy, nearly too much to hold up on his own, and he’s leaning onto Cassian enough that Cassian scoops Azriel up into his arms.

“Do you mind if I carry you, Az?”

Azriel couldn’t say no if he tried – his body has already betrayed him, leaning into Cassian’s chest like he’s done it dozens of times before. It would be too obviously a lie for Azriel’s taste, so he doesn’t bother. Instead, Azriel just shakes his head and whispers, “As long as you don’t mind carrying me.”

This gets a breathy laugh out of Cassian. Even the shadows hiss and giggle in Azriel’s ear.

Cassian’s only response is similar to that of Azriel’s shadows: “How could I ever mind, hm?”

One of Cassian’s muscled arms is under Azriel’s knees, the other wrapped securely around Azriel’s back. Cassian stands still long enough for Azriel to get his arms around Cassian’s neck. Burying his face in Cassian’s shoulder, Azriel accepts that they’re done for the evening – morning? He can see the sunlight streaming in through the windows across the room; moonlight had been there just hours earlier – and relaxes against the warmth of Cassian’s body. After Cassian manages to situate Azriel in his arms and pull his own wings tight against his back – presumably to keep them from bumping into Azriel’s – he sets off.

Azriel assumes Cassian is heading for the bedroom. He can’t be sure though, because he’s not willing to lift his head to get an idea of what Cassian’s plan is. Cassian is walking slowly enough that it doesn’t jostle Azriel – it’s plenty challenging just to stay awake as he waits on Cassian to get wherever he’s got them going.

Surely enough, a few seconds go by, and Azriel is being sat down on a soft mattress he recognizes as his own. He manages to bat away Cassian’s hands and pull his own clothes off, but he does take the night shirt that Cassian offers him when he’s done, and then he’s dressed for bed.

“I’m going to let Rhys know we won’t be going in today,” Cassian says as he lifts the blankets over Azriel’s body. “So that he and Mor won’t freak out when we don’t show up.”

Azriel raises an eyebrow. The gesture is more to save face than to argue with Cassian – it’s much too late to decide to go into work today after having been up all night, and it isn’t like anything important is going on anyway.

The first thing Azriel does protest is when Cassian leans down to kiss him goodbye. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Cassian promises. There’s a sadness in his voice Azriel can’t quite place, for some reason.

And Azriel does not like that.

So Az reaches up and grabs Cassian by the front of his shirt. “You’re leaving?”

“Do you want me to stay?” The question comes out with much more emotion than Cassian probably means for it to, but he doesn’t correct himself. Doesn’t rephrase it or clear his throat or try to wipe his expression clean like Az has seen him do so many times before.

Azriel pushes himself up until he’s sitting. He gives Cassian the best raised-eyebrows-what-the-hell look that he can manage this early (or late?) in the morning. “I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to ask you to stay since before we moved to Velaris.”

Cassian’s eyebrows fly into his hairline. He genuinely looks caught off-guard, like he’d imagined that, once he left, once the spell was broken, the night they’ve shared won’t matter. But nothing could be further from the truth.

“Will you stay the night, Cassian?” Azriel asks. His voice is as soft and serious as it was a moment ago. He clarifies, just so that there’s no arguing about what he means. “With me?”

Throat bobbing as he gulps, Cassian nods. He looks afraid, still, so Azriel twists on to his side – this means putting his back to Cassian, which he doesn’t like, because a tiny, irrational part of him is worried Cassian will vanish into thin air if Azriel takes his eyes off of him – and pulls a piece of parchment and an enchanted quill from his nightstand.

 _Rhys_ , he scrawls as quickly as he can, _Cassian and I will not be able to make it to the townhouse today for work. Everything is fine, but something has popped up, and we should be around again tomorrow. Please let us know if anything urgent comes up._

Azriel scans the message a few times once he’s done with it. His eyes are too bleary to be perfectly sure, so he gives up after the fifth attempt. The wording isn’t the best – it’s not at all a lie, but he’s not sure what else he can say that even sounds remotely mature and keeps this new development private for the time being.

Satisfied that it won’t be getting any better, Azriel snaps his fingers and watches the parchment disappear. Rhys will see it when he gets up, and it should be enough to keep him from worrying until Cassian and Azriel have a chance to talk about what to tell the rest of their family.

An irritating but funny part of Azriel’s mind supplies him with a joke about how neither of them have to awkwardly introduce anyone to their family this time. Azriel rolls his eyes and curls up under the blankets again. His eyes droop shut. Still, he forces himself to wait on Cassian before going to sleep.

Luckily for an already half-asleep Az, the other side of the bed dips a second later. Cassian slips underneath the sheets and lies still for a long moment. Azriel flips onto his other side so that he’s facing Cassian, reaching out for him without bothering to open his eyes.

“Come ‘ere,” Azriel says. The words are slurred.

Cassian complies, and they end up tangled together. Azriel rests his head on Cassian’s chest, right over his heart, and they each wind their arms around the other.

“Are you sure you want me to stay?”

Azriel doesn’t know how else to combat the doubt in Cassian’s voice. “I love you,” he murmurs. “I have for almost my entire life.” After a few seconds of silence, something dawns on him, though, and he has to ask before he’s too asleep to articulate it. “Do _you_ want to stay?”

Arms tightening around Azriel’s back and side, Cassian nods against Azriel’s forehead. He pulls Az closer to him somehow, and a sigh escapes him. Az knows the feeling – it feels so good, warm, like love and sunny days, and like _home_.

“Of course I do,” Cassian finally answers. “I’ve always wanted to.”

They both drift off, happy and in love and in love with each other, safe in knowing that it’s out in the open and that the other will be there when they wake up.

That night, around seven, when they finally drag themselves out of bed, Cassian confesses something else over dinner – “It was never that I didn’t want to get married,” he explains through a mouthful of pasta. He winks at Azriel. “It was that the male I’ve always wanted to marry was going out with Rita’s cousin.”

Azriel is guilty as charged. He leans over and presses a kiss to Cassian's cheek, not bothering to hide a grin. It took them every bit of a few centuries to get it together -- now that they have, Azriel isn't planning on letting any time go to waste. He also finds their collective stupidity rather amusing. How many couples can say that their biggest obstacle in getting together was themselves?

When they break the news to Rhys and Mor and Amren two nights later, all five of them seated around a wonderful meal and enjoying the peace of the family they’ve found in one another, Rhys slips Amren and Mor several coins each, and Amren delivers a sincere toast to their happiness. Mor gives them both a look and laughs, “It certainly took you long enough!”

Cassian looks at Mor with wide eyes. "You knew?"

The response from the rest of the group is instantaneous and as loud as it is impassioned. "We _all_ knew!"


End file.
